


Between the Lines

by JoJo



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2124918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJo/pseuds/JoJo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Travis approaching him with an armful of books tends to make Vin nervous, but turns out she has far more serious matters on her mind than teaching him his letters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [randi2204](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/gifts).



> This one's the lovely randi's daybook summer santa gift! 
> 
> Not able to connect to DW at the moment (sadface!) to actually put it in your stocking, hon, so posting it here for now.
> 
> I tried to get it to fit in with your lovely matchmaker!Chris fics but that didn't work, so I hope it's OK as it is. Happy August!

__

_to learn to read is to light a fire; every syllable that is spelled out is a spark_ ∼ Victor Hugo 

Vin was looking the other way at first, had his back to her. He felt a prickle across his shoulders, a familiar feeling that something – someone – was coming up on him. There was no immediate danger, though - he was pretty sure of that. He dropped the last of his tools into the jockey box of the wagon, wiped his hands on his pants and turned around, ready.

No, no danger. Well, not exactly. 

The editor of _The Clarion News_ was fifty yards from him, walking her walk diagonally across the main street. No mistaking she was heading straight for him, which he wasn’t sure about. Vin watched her approach in between tightening up the ropes on the wagon cover. She was in her pale, flower-sprigged dress, arms full of books. The weight of them, the way she held them with both arms, made her stride less forthright than it sometimes was. Still, there was a determination about her he’d come to recognize. A nervous feeling, like he’d been caught skipping school, stole over Vin. As she drew level, came up close, he made a hat-tipping gesture even though he wasn’t wearing his hat.

“Miz Travis.” 

“Vin. Sorry to disturb you, but may I have a word?” 

The familiarity unnerved him further, as did the sudden scent of her. Fearful good-looking woman, that was always what he thought when Mary Travis was up close. It was the only time he ever worried about the state of his clothes and the amount of dust in his hair. It didn’t bother him around Miss Nettie and it didn’t bother him around other good-looking women, like Inez, or Ezra’s ma. In fact, he’d always rather enjoyed the way Ezra’s ma wrinkled her nose whenever he was too near. Mary Travis would never do anything like that, usually gave him a smile. Sometimes almost a shy one if he thought about it. They’d found some unspoken common ground over the poetry business, although neither had said a word about it since. No more than he’d said a word about it to Ezra either, damn him. 

Vin eyed the books. Chances were high she was coming to offer to teach him his letters again. Chances were even higher he’d say no.

He gestured at the wagon with his head. “I ain’t busy.”

Her cheeks seemed pink with more than exercise. She settled the books against her chest, protective.

Guess we’re both scared of something, Vin thought, wry.

“It’s a very private matter.”

Very private, excepting that she wanted to tell him.

“Ma’am.”

There was a slight frown-line between her brows, as if she expected him to be more helpful than that in greasing the conversation.

“Awkward, even,” she added. The slight catch in her voice was kind of intriguing.

Vin considered. He was curious, as well as uneasy, about what Mary Travis might consider private and awkward. Even more why she’d choose him to talk to about it.

“Well,” he said. “Maybe we should walk some?”

She looked down at the books in her arms. Vin reached to loosen the rope he’d just tightened. He lifted a corner of canvas, gestured at her books, then at the wagon.

“Thank you.” She held the books towards him rather than put them inside herself. Vin felt an inner grin. Maybe she thought he kept something in there that might bite. He handled the books with care, didn’t even try and decipher the titles because he suspected his face looked a certain way whenever he was looking at words he couldn’t read. When he’d tipped the volumes inside and re-tied the rope, he turned towards the street. Soon as he set off walking she fell into step next to him. He could feel the warmth of her coming through his rolled up shirt-sleeve as they bumped arms. Usually Mary Travis wasn’t lost for words, not about anything, but she seemed tongue-tied right now. He waited her out, not being one for small talk himself.

“I thought you were the best one to approach,” she began eventually, and she had her efficient, no nonsense voice on now, even though it didn’t convince him that was how she was feeling. “As you’re his close friend.”

“Ma’am.” It was the best way to encourage her, he thought, since he had no idea what next question to ask.

“Mr. Larabee’s close friend,” Mary Travis went on in explanation, and she glanced quickly sideways at him as if she were checking his reaction.

“Figured you meant him.” Vin grinned out proper then, wondering how Chris had ruffled her feathers so hard, but he reined in quickly. “There some problem I can help with?” He hoped to God, after finding out his poetical ambitions, she wasn’t going to ask him for advice on affairs of the heart, especially where Chris was concerned. 

They’d walked to the end of the street past the Ritz and she stopped. To Vin’s discomfort she began to twist her fingers together, which wasn’t the kind of thing Mary did a general rule. He could feel emotion beginning to pour off her, like she was building up a head of steam, and he wasn’t at all sure he was equipped to deal with that. Didn’t like to see her so upset neither. It tugged on him harder than he was expecting.

“Do you know?” she burst out all of a sudden. “About Mr. Larabee and Mr. Standish?”

Well, heck. That was getting to it. 

“They in some kind of trouble?” he asked cautiously.

“I don’t know! That’s to say I... Mr. Standish is a friend of yours too, isn’t he?”

Vin frowned at that. Seemed like a trick question. They rode together, after all. Drank a deal of whisky and played cards often enough. Weren’t exactly private that he and Ezra didn’t have a whole lot in common, though - apart from the things they did have in common of course.

“Me and Ezra get along fine, mostly.”

“But Mr. Larabee is your good friend? Your close friend?”

“Well, it’s no secret, ma’am. We ain’t known each other a real long time but he’s about the best friend I ever had.”

“Mary,” she said, “please call me Mary. You usually do.”

Vin felt a little stung, which surprised him. “Well, seein’ as how we’re all ‘Mr. Larabee’ and ‘Mr. Standish’, I was figuring maybe things were kind of formal.” He indicated to her to walk on if she had a mind to, but, after a quick look around to see who was nearby, she shook her head.

“Oh, Vin,” she said, and it kind of shook him to his boots. Didn’t leave him in much doubt about what was on her mind, although he hoped he was wrong.

“Think it’d be best if you just came out and told me. If those boys are in any trouble, or if they’ve been vexing you, then I’d like to know. Soon as possible.”

But still she was wandering around the houses. “Those two,” she said. “I never thought of them as good friends. Not like you and Chris. Not even like you and Josiah.”

Vin scratched his head. “They rub along,” he said, and as soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished they weren’t. Not by the look on her face. 

“Ohh.” It was more like a choke than a word. “They certainly do.”

“Mary?” He kind of sighed out her name then, reluctant, because now he was just waiting for her to come out and say it. Open up the whole box of tricks. 

“I saw them,” she said, nodding her head a little as if it would somehow get her through this. “Together. And I don’t mean playing cards.” She sucked in a breath through her parted lips, lowered her voice so he could hardly hear her. Both the tone, and her words, sent a strange feeling up his spine. “I saw them touching hands. Kissing. Like lovers.” Her brow was all scrunched up, like her head hurt her. Wasn’t anger, or disgust, neither. Well, he didn’t reckon so. More like she was kind of stumped.

Vin could feel his heart ticking against his breastbone, nearly winding him. They’d all agreed, that if anyone in town ever so much as suggested there was anything unnatural going on between Chris and Ezra, the rest of them would just close ranks, flat out deny it. Somehow Vin had always thought the revelation, if it ever came at all, would present itself like a crazy rumor they’d easily be able to put the lie to. Not in the form of someone he liked and respected coming along with the evidence of their own eyes. He didn’t want to lie to Mary Travis. He just didn’t. And something told him she’d just see right through him if he tried it anyway.

Seemed best to just come out and say the truth then, and with Vin to think was to act. 

“You asked if I knew about them. Well yes, ma’am, I did.” He was matter-of-fact but wary, waiting for some answering tirade about morality and suchlike, waiting for threats and condemnation. Those didn’t come though.

“Like lovers,” she repeated, and raised her eyes to meet his. He’d half expected tears, but her eyes were clear. Clear and the color of gemstones; full of wonder and disbelief.

Now it was him looking around, making sure nobody was near enough to overhear. He caught her sleeve, drew her further off the street, in between the Ritz and the Everything Store.

“Ain’t something to talk about round town, Mary,” he said. “Not even half a mention. You understand that, don’t you? It could kill them.”

She didn’t respond to that directly. 

“How long has it been going on?” 

The question was asked not as if it was gossip but as if she really, really needed to know. Vin felt bad for her all of a sudden – for all those liquid looks at Larabee, all that joy she had in him and young Billy spending time together. Heck, she must have held out for him, hoped that if he ever managed to come to terms with his tragedy that he’d turn to her first. Instead of which Chris had been dodging her right from the get-go.

“Don’t rightly know. Rest of us only found out a month or so back. After the whole business with the Gaines woman.”

“And it’s exactly as I saw? He and Ezra are...” Again that pinch between her brows. “They’re lovers?”

“Reckon that’s the word all right.”

And strangely enough Vin was glad to hear it from those petal-pink lips, hear it come out so easy. He liked the term, in general, and up to now he and the others had only ever acknowledged what was going on without framing it to one another with any word at all. ‘Lovers’. Yep, that was what Chris and Ezra were, although hell knew what it was going to get them except the drop if they weren’t careful.

“I needed to talk to someone about what I saw, what I thought about it, but I didn’t want to be... well, to be telling tales.” She scrubbed along her forehead with the back of one wrist. The flounce of the sleeve furling around the base of her hand was so pointless and yet so alluring at the same time that Vin swallowed.

“And what do you think about it?” he asked, somewhat brusque. He was still waiting for some harsh words from her. Mrs. Travis, for all her modern ideas, was traditional as she could be, a pillar of Josiah’s church, the town, and the whole community.

“I feel sick to the stomach.” 

Vin narrowed his eyes, unsettled by the honesty.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“No, listen to me. I thought it all wrong when I saw it. I was shocked, upset. Seeing two men like that. I’ve never, it’s not... not what you’d expect to come across out here. And Mr. Larabee...”

“Don’t seem the type, right?” 

She shot him an angry look. “Are you laughing at me?”

He raised his hands. “No, ma’am.”

“Mary,” she said again, a little desperate. “Please call me Mary.”

He shrugged. “Tell me then, where’d you see ‘em?”

Her face flushed. “I was in the middle of my chores, going from Bucklin’s to the Bank and I saw Mr. Larabee go down by the side of the Post Office.” She drew herself up slightly, as if prepared for embarrassment. “Since I wanted to speak with him, I followed. And he was there, talking to Mr. Standish. They were standing close together.” Seemed like she still couldn’t say their names like she usually did, when she was being friendly with them. “And I... before I could... and then he was more than talking to him. Much more.”

There was silence. 

‘More than talking to him’. 

Vin could feel a knot of fear and anger twisting up in him at those words and the image that jumped into his mind. He was going to give Chris hell when he next saw him in private. Jesus... Carrying on in the street, out in the open in town where anybody could have seen them, not just Mary Travis. Did he want to get himself arrested and accused of all manner of crimes? Did he want the man who shared his damned bed dragged out of his room by some mob of liquored-up hot-heads, beaten to a pulp, strung up outside the saloon? Because they would turn on Ezra, those nameless, formless bastards. Given half the chance they surely would.

“You’re worried for them.” Her voice was soft, full of concern for him too.

Vin couldn’t speak for a moment. His fists were clenched down by his sides.

“Be downright foolish if I weren’t.”

“I understand.”

He swallowed again, tried to relax his hands. “Wouldn’t even call it worry. Truth to tell, Mary, I’m terrified for 'em.”

Her hand strayed to her throat. “Who knows? I mean, apart from you and I?”

The idea that she thought only the two of them shared this toxic secret brought Vin back to earth a little. “Rest of the seven,” he said quickly. “Guess we’ve gotten like that. Chris couldn’t see no reason not to, livin’ in each other’s pockets like we do. Guarding each other’s backs.”

“Nobody else suspects?”

Vin set his jaw, looked out and down the street. “Well I sure as hell hope not. Although if they’re bein’ so free and easy together out in public all of a sudden... well, damn that.”

“I won’t say a word, Vin. Of course.”

 _Of course_. ‘Of course’ didn’t amount to a hill of beans, not really. Vin had always wondered whether Mary Travis was as discreet as she was made out to be. She had to know a whole lot of secrets about a whole lot of people, being on the paper and all. And it was her business to print things that’d get folk talking.

He looked back at her. “Long as you understand this ain’t just some scrap of gossip that don’t mean nothin’.” 

“I understand.” She was soothing, but he didn’t want that.

He shook his head, fierce, struggling to keep his language measured. 

“I’ve seen what can happen, the way men behave.”

He’d never tell her in a million years exactly what he’d seen though. Years ago in a rough as shit cow town he’d passed through. How he’d witnessed the particularly twisted kind of brutality that could be unleashed on those who broke society’s rules the way Chris and Ezra were. How the horror of not having moved fast enough that time had haunted his nights, was one reason he’d set aside his broom without a second’s hesitation on Nathan Jackson’s behalf. Would have gone down in fire trying to save him. And damn. That it was suddenly no longer just the seven of them sharing such a confidence made fear for Chris and Ezra tighten again in his throat. 

“And if you ever say a goddamned word that might...” He started, shocked at himself. He’d grabbed hold of her by the wrist as he spoke, was holding it tight.

Her face had paled and her eyes had widened, revealing a flicker of fear that made him feel low. She didn’t struggle to pull away, however. Her voice came out calm, so strong that Vin felt a little skitter in his chest. 

“Dear God, Vin, what do you take me for? I would never do or say a thing to put any one of you in danger like that. I swear on my life.”

In his harsh grip her wrist felt tiny, fragile as a bird. Her hand was small, perfect, pale against the tan of his skin, the hair on his forearm. Each finger-nail was an oval tipped in white. There was a streak of faded ink across two knuckles, and her wedding band winked gold. 

Vin pulled some air into his chest. His pulse felt thick. “Good,” he said. 

His fingers slowly unwrapped, releasing her. She looked at the ground, folded her arms. After a long pause, during which he guessed she was getting herself together, rather like he himself was, she spoke again. There didn’t seem too much more she could say, and he wasn’t going to answer any more questions on the subject.

“Well, I guess I should get back then. I’m expecting a delivery.”

He nodded, glad for the normality. Then he held out a hand for her to lead the way. Once again they began to move, falling into step along the street, shoulder to shoulder. They re-traced their route, past the Ritz, both of them silent. Aware that everything was different now, but not quite sure why or where it would lead. When they reached the wagon, Vin retrieved the stack of books for her, handed them over.

She stood for a moment, clasping them against her once more as if they were a protection, and then began to speak again, this time in a rush. 

“Well I can’t exactly say I feel better having talked to you, but... thank you anyhow. You were truthful and I appreciate it, even if I wish I’d never seen what I saw in the first place, didn’t have to worry over it. You know I think the Judge did the right thing in taking you all on and even though you doubtless realize the high regard I have for Mr.... for Chris, I just hope... well, I just hope for all your sakes that he and Ezra are good to each other. Make each other happy.” She ran a finger along the spine of one of the books, looking anywhere but at him. “And that we can keep them safe.”

That last part was what he wanted to hear most, even though it was a strange reason for him and Mary to be allied to one another. It kind of settled in his chest, made him feel warm and on edge at the same time. 

“Now,” she bustled on, “I know you haven’t been sure about the lessons, Vin. But I just wanted to say that the offer’s still open. It would be an honor and a privilege to help you, and I really think that-“

“Yes, Mary.”

“What?” She looked up in surprise. A small tendril of fair hair had come loose from the pins she wore, was curling against her temple.

“Yes. I’d like the lessons.” He could hardly believe he was saying it, but somehow it felt like it might be all right. Maybe. Despite the way she sometimes was he’d always felt a measure of trust in her, and the encounter they’d just had only seemed to confirm it.

Her face flushed in pleasure and he was glad to see the color back in her cheeks. “Well that’s fine,” she said. “That’s wonderful. You could come by Sunday afternoon, we could make a start.”

His heart fell. Sunday afternoon he usually spent in the saloon with whichever of the boys was around. It was kind of a tradition they all relied on and he didn’t want to disappoint them. But what the hell... all of a sudden he couldn’t stand to disappoint her even more.

“Reckon I could come then.”

She smiled, one of them shy ones.

“Well good. I’ll look forward to it.”

He felt strange, as if they’d made an arrangement to meet up for something completely different than reading lessons, but it wasn’t a bad kind of strange. As she moved to leave he made the hat-tipping gesture again, then turned to stare across the street. The conversation he’d just had, the memories it had stirred up, and just thinking about missing Sunday afternoon, had given him a powerful thirst all of a sudden, and he felt like he needed to see who was around. Make sure everything and everyone was all right. He knew Mary Travis was walking away from him, diagonally back across the street towards the newspaper office, but he kept on doggedly looking towards the saloon. 

He didn’t look over in her direction again, not until the last minute. And then he stole a glance, watched the white-sprigged dress disappear inside the door. 

“Damn,” he said out loud, imagining walking into the saloon. It felt like some step change had happened, some low-burning fire was ready to be lit.

For the life of him he didn’t know how he was ever going to keep it off his face.

 

-ends-


End file.
